Diagon Ink
by CarryOnMyWaywardIdjits
Summary: As the month ended the gaggle of construction wizards and interior design witches had gone and the woman who had so cautiously watched over the shop was joined by another woman about the same age. On the third of June a sign in bold black letters was placed above the words painted on the door. OPEN
1. Number 95

Number 95 had been desolate for years. Ten years it had been rusting, needing so much more than dusting. That's why went the "For Rent" sign had vanished one morning, the Diagon Alley regulars had quirked a brow in wonder. Who in their right mind would want that piece of work?

However, over the course of the week things began to change inside and out of the worn down shop. Dirty and gritty windows hand been replaced with two large, shinning windows with outlines of two lovely, yet fierce looking women holding devices no wizard was familiar with on either side of double, glass doors. Above the door was an outline of a heart lit up with the words "Diagon Ink" glowing in white.

The bricks outside of the building were washed until they looked as if they had just been laid, and a charm had been cast upon the plaster for it to give it a silver, shimmering look. On the glass doors, in neat print, were the words:

Diagon Ink

Tattoos & Piercings

Monday-Thursday

11:00 a.m. - 9:00 p.m.

Friday-Saturday

11:00 a.m. – 1:00 a.m.

Many repair witches and wizards were in and out of the shop for the month, but one figure was always in the mix, her arms folded across her chest, her chocolate brown curls falling down her back sloppily as she watched with a hawks gaze as witches and wizards moved about. She appeared to be orchestrating the whole renovation and she didn't look as if it were something she was taking lightly.

At the end of the month, the once rotting wooden floors that coated the old shop's floor had been removed, the ground had been leveled and redone with shining, black tiles. The walls, which had previously been stained with grime and grit and been cleaned and had been covered over with a metallic purple with flecks of silver swirling inside reminding muggle-born wizards of Viniq.

There was a bar when you first walked in with dozens of wondrous drawings, some still, some moving, some in black and white, and some in color beneath a glass casing coating the wall portion of the island up to the black marble topping where glass cases containing tiny pieces of body jewelry shinned proudly. Before the bar was a reception area with black leather chairs and glass tables with pamphlets about tattoos and pricings. They included information on the medication used to instantly heal both alterations, the charms used to animate tattoos, the charm that lets only soul mates see the individuals tattoo, and the charm that conceals tattoos if the need should arise.

Passerby couldn't see what the hall behind the front counter bar hid, but the gossip was that it lead to a variety of large rooms with odd black leather furniture and desks with supplies that had been ordered from the muggle world. Purebloods lifted up their noses to the shop, while muggle-borns and half-bloods eyed it curiously and excitedly, having more of an idea of what this new shop meant.

As the month ended the gaggle of construction wizards and interior design witches had gone and the woman who had so cautiously watched over the shop was joined by another woman about the same age. On the third of June a sign in bold black letters was placed above the words painted on the door.

OPEN


	2. Kestrel

Kestrel Nevermore had always had a steady hand. Her father, when she was nine, informed her that she had the hand of an artist. Kestrel, beaming proudly, told her father that though her hand may be steady, it was that of an artists because she knew when to let her hand move freely. Her dad had smiled and shook his head, but now he told the story of that day with such a fondness Kestrel never failed to beam at him.

At the moment Kestrel's milky colored hand was gracefully flying across the transfer paper, her sapphire eyes watching cautiously as a Hungarian Horntail appeared. The beast was crawling upwards, its horned head raised as flames spewed from its strong jaws. The dragon's tail followed behind it and was slightly curled up at the tip. When Kestrel was finished she held up her work and examined it from all angles, after about ten minutes of analyzing, Kestrel smirked and placed the stencil down and cast a glance at the clock.

The first pureblood wizard was due at noon and Kestrel had been at the shop since eight that morning making sure everything was in order. Her station, the first one to the left, was neatly polished and tidy. Her ink was all lined up, and inch and a half away from each other, her tattoo gun in a sanitary plastic bag right on the ride.

Kestrel rubbed her hands together eagerly as she heard the chime from lobby area and stretched in a cat like manor before heading up to the front of the store. Kestrel was greeted by a muscular man of average height with flaming red hair. Kestrel grinned as she strode up behind the counter and put her elbows on it as the man gazed about the shop in awe. Kestrel rested her chin in her palms and smirked as she asked, "Like what you see?"

The man jumped and took his fingers from the moving wall paint as if it had burned him. His ears turned red as he turned his very freckled face towards Kestrel. The tattooed girl looked at him in an amused manor before taking her right index finger and motioning for him to come see her.

"Charlie Weasley?" Kestrel asked as she walked towards the aisle that lead towards four private working quarters and her office.

"Yeah," The man smiled nervously and he rubbed the back of his head with callused finger tips.

Kestrel, swinging her hips, walked over to the stocky man and extended her milky white arm, "Kestrel Nevermore," Kestrel shook the man's hand, which was engulfed her own, then turned her back and began to walk.

"'Mere! I've got everything set up," she called over her shoulder as she grabbed the door frame and swung herself inside of her station and perched herself on her stool.

Charlie entered and looked about, unsure.

"Take of your shirt, darlin'," Kestrel said as she slipped on a pair of gloves. Charlie cocked a brow and smirked slightly.

"Whatever you say, sweet cheeks," and with that Charlie took off his shirt in one swift movement, exposing a muscular back and a chiseled chest. Kestrel whistled and patted the seat next to her. Charlie wiggled his brows at her as she grabbed a stick of something he was unfamiliar with and squirted it into her hand.

Kestrel stuck her hand on Charlie's back before he could even ask what she was doing. He shivered at the cold temperature of the lotion like substance and Kestrel laughed. "In case you're wondering, this helps the outline. Makes for a much better tattoo."

"Ah, and what exactly is it?" Charlie asked as he picked up the outline of the dragon he was getting tattooed on his back. "This is wicked," he grinned.

"Thanks, and it's actually something I created. It helps disinfect the area, helps with the annoying pricks and, like I said, makes for a much better outline, and therefore, tattoo."

Slipping off her gloves, Kestrel took the stencil from Charlie and placed it on his back where he had specified during his call, via Floo, and made sure that it was on properly before peeling it off and leaving behind a purple outline of the massive Horntail.

The beast's head and neck took over the shoulder blades while the fire the dragon breathed trailed up Charlie's left shoulder. The tail of the creature of the tail went to the red-head's mid back, the wings tips ended just before Charlie's right shoulder. Kestrel liked the placement.

"Go check it out in the mirror," Kestrel said as she slapped Charlie's arm.

He turned his head slightly to smirk at her before heaving himself from the comfy leather chair and walking over to Kestrel's full body mirror to examine his back. His brown eyes flicked over it curiously before he grinned. "My mum is so going to kill me," he looked at Kestrel with an amused glint in his eye, "But it's so worth it. It looks perfect."

Kestrel beamed at his words as she sat him down and picked up her tattoo gun and began to do that tattoo that had to impress everyone.


	3. Arabella

Arabella ran into the shop fifteen minutes late, her hair was flying all about and her clothes were quickly thrown together. She had overslept, and yes, quite frankly, she could believe it. Who wanted to sit and watch the front of the shop all day? Diagon Ink wasn't exactly huge at the moment, having only opened up its doors yesterday. Arabella was hoping she could wrangle some poor soul into getting a piercing, at the very least. As long as they didn't want gages. Gages were creepy.

With an exasperated sigh Arabella threw her purse sloppily onto the front counter and hopped on the swivel stool in front of the books. Twisting oddly in her seat, and nearly falling from it, Arabella managed to turn herself so that she was facing the mirror she was positive Kestrel had hung just for this occasion and began to run her fingers through her hair in a lame attempt to control it. In the end, however, the she just threw it up into a pointy tail and made it look purposely messy. It worked.

Fixing her Jack Daniels crop-top, Bella looked over at the book that Kestrel had laid down. _The Hobbit_. Typical. Bella plucked up the book and started reading where her soul sister had left off. Both girls had the read the book so many times it didn't really matter where they started, they knew exactly what was going on. _Exactly_.

Arabella, however, had only read through two pages before she heard a chime. Eagerly, Bella picked up her head in hope of being able to do something productive, but was let down when she saw a middle aged man with a confused face enter the shop.

Bella put on a smile, "Hi! Welcome to Diagon Ink, can I help you?"

The man, who had a balding head of fiery red head, jumped lightly and turned to Bella. He looked at her curiously before crossing the room to the front desk. He scratched his head before awkwardly extending his hand for her to shake.

Bella smiled unsurely but took the man's hand none the less. "Arthur Weasley."

"Arabella Lowood. Nice to meet you. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Ah, yes," the man said as he looked about. Bella was about 95% percent sure that this man was not interesting in getting either a tattoo or a piercing. He was being terribly awkward about the whole situation which made Bella all the more curious as to what his motives were.

There had been more that the occasional young wizard or witch poke their noses into the store window, but none had ever been brave enough to enter when they saw Kestrel and Bella messing about with their muggle devices. Plus, if Arabella was honest, she assumed people in the wizard world were a tad bit nervous around them. Kestrel's milky skin hadn't been without ink since she was fourteen. Not to mention Kestrel was just damn scary with all her tatt's and pricings. Arabella herself? She had a reputation too. In her fifth years at Hogwarts she got in a in a heap of trouble. Almost got expelled. Then there was the incident in her seventh year when she and Kestrel had considered following in Fred and George Weasley's footsteps. However, no matter how rough Kestrel was, she always paled at the idea of leaving Hogwarts early. It never failed to make the Gryffindor laugh.

"My son Charlie, well he was coming in to get one of these- oh- what do you call them?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Oh! A tattoo. My best friend Kestrel is doing it down the hall." Bella jabbed in the general direction with her thumb.

"I wondering if you could explain, err, tattoos to me? You see, I'm actually quite fond, well more curious per say, about muggle things."

Spinning around on her seat Bella jumped and landed in her red Kegs with a light _thump_. "Sure thing!"

Arabella snatched her portfolio and slapped it down onto the counter. "You see, a tattoo in the muggle word is quite simple, they look something like this," Bella pulled out on of her first tattoo's which looked similar to a muggle's, only since her technology was magically altered, even her lesser tattoos' looked better to the average muggle tattoo.

"The one's muggle's give now days are not quite as good because we intertwine magic when we tattoo here. Muggle's usually get tattoo's for a reason. When you live in the mundane world, a tattoo is forever, the ink is in your skin and even though it may become slightly dulled over time, it will never vanish. So muggle's usually take care to see that they get something that both looks good and means something to them.

"For example, my friend Jackson, he's a muggle, and his father died when he was fifteen. He got is father's handprint tattooed on his shoulder, as if his father were standing behind him."

"Fascinating," Mr. Weasley muttered, "And how does the ink get in the skin?"

"Oh, with a tattoo gun. It's basically this needle that goes in and out of your skin. To some people it hurts, Kestrel and I both agree that it's actually just annoying. They use a special kind of ink though, not the kind we dip our quills in." Bella smiled.

Mr. Weasley nodded eagerly, "And how did you and your friend mix magic into this business?"

"Well, my friend Kestrel was a Ravenclaw. She was always interested in this. So during Hogwarts we, mostly she, poked around in the books. During Charms, we're partners, and we came up with the spell to charm tattoos. Muggle tattoo's stand still while ours can be made to move. However, the thing that Kestrel and I are most proud of is our soul mate ink. It took three years to prefect and an indebt study of charms, divination, and potions. We have scrolls upon scrolls of parchment on the topic. Soul mate ink allows only the wizard or witch who has the tattoo and their soul mate to see it. The tattoo artist can only see the tattoo while they are completing it and ten minutes after, just to make sure they are pleased with their work."

"That's brilliant!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "What else?"

Arabella giggled, she liked this man, the head of the Weasley household. There was no doubt in her mind that Kestrel would be sad she missed the chance to show off her brilliance to a man so interested. "We also created a line of healing creams. Muggle tattoo's take a while to heal, we, however, created a slave that heals the skin. We apply it right after we are finished tattooing. It makes things easier, since clothing won't agitate it."

"Fascinating. And your walls?" Mr. Weasley quirked a bow.

"Oh, it was inspired by Muggle liquor. Shimmering vodka to be precise. It was a simple charm, really. I guess no one's really knows about it because they aren't crazy enough to want things moving across their walls." Arabella shrugged.

Mr. Weasley smiled happily and stood from his seat, "Well, thank you Miss Lowood for your time. Your friend and you have quite the business here."

"Thanks you, although I wish as many people were in here as you son's shop. They appear to be doing quite well. I never doubted them." Arabella smiled fondly at the thought of the twins. She had always been quite fond of them.

"Ah, they are doing quite well, given the circumstances." Mr. Weasley's face became grim as he frowned lightly. Arabella nodded awkwardly before she hear Kestrel's sing-song voice ring out "Done!"

"Kestrel, this is wicked!" a manly voice called happily. Arabella, curious, trotted over to her friend's station and peeked inside.

Kestrel was standing beside a short, stocky man with the same flaming hair as Mr. Weasley. Kestrel looked incredibly pleased with herself, Charlie looked exceptionally happy and Arabella could see why. The Hungarian Horntail that took over the man's muscular back and contained a great deal of detail. It had and animation charm on it that caused the beast to shake its strong jaws and spew fire. Arabella could see the beast's chest contracting and watched as its tail flicked and the rocks beneath the creature's talons broke and crumbled. Arabella folded her arms and gave the tattoo a look of approval.

"Looks great," Arabella smiled.

"Does it?" Kestrel asked without looking at her friend. Her eyes were too busy examining every detail of her work, scanning it for error. She was absentmindedly chewing on her lower lip, something she did when in deep concentration.

Charlie cast a glance over this shoulder and chuckled, "It's perfect." His brown eyes slid back to his tattoo and he grinned a grin that reminded her of the twins.

"Good," Kestrel sighed. She walked over to her counter and put on a plastic glove and grabbed a small container of the slave she and Arabella had created and smeared it all over Charlie's tattoo. His skin soaked it in immediately. With her hand that was ungloved, Kestrel ran her hand over Charlie's back, causing him to shiver slightly. Arabella figured it was probably due to the ever cold temperature of Kestrel's hands. Where Arabella always ran hot, Kestrel was always cold. The two mostly wished to trade places.

"All healed. Come look Bella. The ink didn't even fade," she grinned.

Arabella crossed the room and ran her own hand over Charlie's tattoo and smiled. It was perfectly healed and none of the ink had faded a bit. "This is brilliant. I can't believe how brilliant we are."

The two looked at each other and smiled before rolling their eyes and saying, "Nah, of course we can," simultaneously.

The two witch's ginned at each other before leading Charlie back to the front where his father stood patiently. He had been questioning Arabella for a while, and she, happy to explain, had rattled off and their seemingly short conversation had turned into hours of Arabella showing off she her best friend's work.

While Kestrel checked Charlie out (she was sure he shed a tear as he paid, tattoos were not cheap), Arabella walked over to Mr. Weasley and shook his hand once more.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Sir," she smiled as the elder man shook her hand and smiled at her in a friendly manor. Though she had only known the older gentleman for a few hours, Arabella was quite fond of him. She found herself wishing she had a father just like him.

Arabella watched the father and son walk out of the door of the shop she co-owned and hoped they wouldn't be the only people she saw that day walk in and out of those perfectly clean doors.

**I shall attempt to update every Monday**


End file.
